


Details

by Dangropes (rosesandthyme)



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, During Canon, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 06:04:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2721497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosesandthyme/pseuds/Dangropes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Sonia had remembered Sparkling Justice's nationality before the end of the trial? (Major spoilers for Chapter 2.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Details

**Author's Note:**

> Major, major spoilers for Chapter 2. Since all of the dialogue to a certain point in this fic is taken directly from the English localization of the game, I guess that's to be expected. Similarly, I'm using English name order/no honorifics.  
> This fic is really just a ridiculous idea I had; I just wanted to write Chapter 2 from Fuyuhiko and Peko's perspective. This was the best bit of it.

                The investigation had gone perfectly, as far as he was concerned. They had found all of the red herrings, taken careful note of every piece of evidence set out to lead them astray. Now, standing in the elevator, Fuyuhiko could hear his heart hammering against his ribs. Everything had to play out perfectly. No wildcards from Hajime. If they took any one of the red herrings, the case would be set. If they didn’t—well, then it came down to a question of whose gambit played further.

                The elevator stopped. The class trial, the moment of truth, began.

                Monokuma opened the discussion for them: “Now then, let’s first discuss the motive! That masterpiece of gaming: Twilight Syndrome Murder Case!”

                “What? Who cares about that game?” Ibuki’s whining voice came from the far side of the room. Gundham muttered a vague assent.

                Hajime took control of the trial, identifying the characters of the game, much more exactly than Fuyuhiko had bothered to. He had only considered long enough to pinpoint the identity of the collaborator. And, strangely enough, managed to pinpoint Fuyuhiko as the sole male character of the game.

                “I was in a game? That’s fuckin’ stupid.” His remark was detached, trying to blow off the entire situation for the moment. Let them flounder. He needed to draw this out as long as he could, make it seem like he didn’t know the motive at all.

                Then Hajime put together the pieces, that he had a little sister.

                He exhaled, the breath hissing through his teeth, and dove into the fight.

 

                Peko’s lips pursed as she watched the trial unfold.

                They put together rather quickly that the murdered girl was Fuyuhiko’s younger sister. For his part, with the focus on him, Fuyuhiko began to lash out, first snapping at Nagito and then Gundham, even Monokuma. That was the problem: she couldn’t let him draw suspicion to himself. Even if she understood his anger, with his sister’s death being flaunted in front of him in this game. But on the other hand…

                Hajime railroaded ahead with the trial as she watched. With nothing more than the game and photos as evidence, he pieced together the answers to the locked-room mystery, identified the murder weapon, and confirmed the killers of both the high school girl and Girl E. That was an irritation.

                Hiyoko was the one to voice the immediate conclusion: “It’s obvious that guy is the killer! No one would kill a nice person like Mahiru besides a piece of shit, menace to society like Fuyuhiko! Girl E and Mahiru were killed by that guy!”

                “Tch… you sure do talk a lot of shit… well, I’m used to it by now.” His words were cocky, too self-assured. She had to do something; she had hoped that he would have at least tried to push suspicion away from himself.

                So Peko spoke up, nudging the conversation again: “But does Mahiru’s murder have anything to do with that game? Perhaps the two are unrelated.”

                Hajime was quick to shoot her down, though, pointing out that Mahiru’s murder was a copycat killing of the game. Hiyoko was only too quick to chime in, accusing Fuyuhiko once again. So she gritted her teeth, and stepped into the argument again, trying to push it back in the right direction.

                “It’s true Fuyuhiko may _look_ suspicious, but don’t you think that’d be too obvious?” Nagito would cheerfully back up that argument, from his earlier commentary. He only wanted an interesting trial. She had to rely on him as an ally, then, and hope that it all came through.

                “Wh-what are y-…?” Fuyuhiko’s whisper interrupted her argument, making her wince just slightly. _Stay out of this, young master. Let me protect you_.

 

                He was pretty sure Peko had lost her mind. What was she doing?

                “I mean,” she continued, voice firm, “there’s a possibility that it’s a trap set by the true killer. The true killer played that game and most likely found out about the relationships between the characters. That person could be using that knowledge to try and set up Fuyuhiko.”

                “Are you saying that a completely different killer murdered Mahiru and used the game motive as their cover?” Sonia’s tremulous question asked nearly the same one running through his head. _What the hell, Peko? Don’t tell me you’re trying to take the blame for this._

                Peko crossed her arms over her chest, and then turned, glaring. “Isn’t that what happened… Hiyoko?”

                He exhaled, head dropping a little. What a farce.

 

                So far, so good.

                The trap played out beautifully. Some of the argument was around pieces of evidence she couldn’t even have predicted: the girl’s helpless insistence that she hadn’t been at the scene of the crime, Nagito’s verification that the footprints on the beach belonged to her… it let her sink into the background, only stepping back into the conversation again to nudge it in the right direction now and then.

                Like now. Kazuichi, the idiot, had turned to start interrogating Fuyuhiko about seeing Hiyoko by the diner. “Fuyuhiko, you also passed by the diner. So you should’ve seen Hiyoko, too, right?”

                He snorted, looking irritated. “It’s just a coincidence that I passed by the diner. I wasn’t even paying attention to the beach house. I went straight back to my cottage after I saw you guys. I didn’t see anyone during that time.”

                “For some reason, that sounds suspicious, too!” Ibuki sounded like she was having way too much fine, staring down her young master with a grin on her face. Peko sighed.

                “Just leave him alone. It’d be a waste of time to question him any further.” _And please shut up, young master. It’s easier to keep them from suspecting you when you don’t talk_. “Anyway, that letter and Kazuichi’s testimony says it all. Hiyoko was meeting up with Mahiru at the beach house.”

                Unfortunately, that was when things started going wrong. One of her red herrings—the gummy, to implicate Hiyoko—ended up clearing from some of the suspicion. Who knew that someone could be childish enough to be brand-specific about candies?

                Peko exhaled, watching Fuyuhiko out of the corner of her eye. She had to be careful.

 

                He gritted his teeth. If they stopped suspecting Hiyoko, they’d figure it out.

                So he went with his usual path: crass anger. “Hold on, you little bitch! You think you’re in the clear just because of a little gummy?! Don’t be stupid, I’m not done backing you into a corner yet!” They still had the footprints. They could still win this.

                Or not. Mahiru’s death, as he well knew, had been instantaneous. Mikan was the one he had to thank for everyone else knowing that. He spared her a glare and a threat for her involvement in that one. But he wasn’t letting Hiyoko off that easily.

                “We haven’t decided you’re innocent yet!”

                “Hey, Fuyuhiko… why do you keep insisting that Hiyoko is the killer?” Hajime’s question was probably a fair one. Too bad that at this point, he didn’t want to hear it.

                “Shut up! I’m telling you, she’s the killer! That little bitch is definitely the killer! If Mahiru didn’t block the door, then Hiyoko did it. She killed Mahiru, and blocked the door with her body. Hiyoko is the only killer I can think of!” At least the last bit was true. Hiyoko _was_ his only resort here.

                “If Hiyoko moved the body, then she should be covered in blood.”

                “So what, dumbass?” He gritted his teeth, just continuing to talk. Maybe Hajime would just give up. “There’s a shower room inside the beach house. After she moved the body, she just washed it off in the—”

                “No, washing it off in the shower is impossible.” _Fucking hell, Hajime._

                This was turning out to be a wreck.

 

                She had no idea what Fuyuhiko was trying to do.

But the trial went on. Peko could sense that they would call her ploy, soon. As long as Fuyuhiko didn’t continue to interfere, she could end this quickly. The debate moved between subjects, glossing over who saw the body before the announcement to how the killer washed off the blood in the first place. Fuyuhiko was quick to say that it was impossible; Hajime jumped to the right conclusion in only a few more words.

                If she wasn’t so nervous about Fuyuhiko’s continued involvement in the trial, she would have been more impressed. Instead, she just threw herself into the debate again, watching as Hajime twisted her words around to the right conclusion.

                Peko could have smiled. It all went too well, perfectly according to plan.

 

                “It seems you’ve realized who the killer is.” Nagito’s voice sing-songed from the far side of the room, sounding far too pleased with the outcome.

 

                _Fuck_.

                “H-hold on… you know who the killer is?” His voice was shaking. Maybe the rest of them wouldn’t notice at all. Hajime certainly didn’t seem to.

                “Peko… is it you?”

                “Why do you believe I’m the killer?” Her voice was impassive, glancing toward Hajime. He gritted his teeth, listening to Hajime’s damnably excellent memory as he came up with her soaked appearance at the diner as his evidence.

                She could have admitted it. But she stayed silent. Her mistake. So he came to her defense, instead.

                “Hold on, you bastard!” Fuyuhiko’s yell cut through everything once again. It brought the entire debate to a standstill. “You saw her at the diner… you never saw her near the beach house, right? So maybe she really was swimming!”

                “No one even saw her swimming!” Kazuichi waved a hand as he spoke, trying to brush it off.

                “No. I saw her.” Fuyuhiko’s voice was tense, glaring at the other students as he spoke. Daring them to contradict him. “I… after I ran into you bastards at the diner, I crossed paths with her on my way home. S-so, there’s no doubt. She would’ve arrived at the diner from the opposite direction of the beach house.”

                “Hold on, that’s strange. Didn’t you just say you didn’t see anyone on your way home earlier?” Hajime’s endlessly calm logic cut through his words. “Don’t try to tell me you forgot about that.”

                Well, to be totally honest, he had.

 

                Fuyuhiko acting as her alibi was maybe the one thing that Peko hadn’t expected.

                Even with Hajime refuting every argument that he tried to make, Fuyuhiko didn’t back down. His hands were clenched in fists at his sides, a scowl masking his expression as he spat out, “N-not so fast! It’s too soon to decide she’s the killer! We haven’t established how the killer was able to leave the beach house!”

                Murmurs of agreement filled the room. Peko glanced expectantly at Hajime, waiting for another moment of brilliance. She barely heard the question Ibuki asked Fuyuhiko: “Um, why are you all fired up, Fuyuhiko? You’re not the suspect, Peko is.”

                “Wh-who cares about that? Answer me! If you have an explanation, then show me what you got!” Fuyuhiko’s words were met like a challenge by Chiaki and Hajime. Between the two of them, it took less than a minute for them to turn to her with the answer:

                “Peko… you carry that bamboo sword on your back at all times, right? If I recall correctly, you had it at the diner, too. Despite the fact that you had a swimsuit on, you were still wearing your bamboo sword. You used it as a stepstool and escaped out the window.”

                The murmurs of amazement that filled the room were like music to her ears. She simply nodded as everyone around her burst into sudden sounds of agreement; it was the perfect solution. After all, it was what had happened.

                Her eyes opened once again with irritation as Fuyuhiko spoke up. “H-hold on a sec, you bastard! You’re sayin’ she used her sword as a stepstool and went out the fuckin’ window? Then what about the sword? It would’ve been left in the shower room, and she wouldn’t have been able to recover it, dumbass!”

                “Fuyuhiko… why do you even care…?” Hajime’s comment reflected her own bewilderment. After all this work to try and ensure that he could leave the island… why was he still looking for another killer to accuse? Why even bother, when he knew the answers to all the questions that he was asking? The other students seemed to share her incredulousness as they watched the argument.

It had gone on long enough.She had to stop him.

 

                He had to stop them.

                “It’s fine. Saying anything more would be an exercise in futility.” She looked up, red eyes meeting his gold ones.

                “‘Among flowers, the cherry blossom. Among men, the samurai.’ I commend you decisiveness, at least. Very well, if you admit it, this ends now! Let’s cast our votes!” Gundham’s voice came too soon, followed by a quiet assent from Peko. He couldn’t breathe.

                “Ah, hold on. Let me confirm one thing, first.” Chiaki’s inquisitiveness was a godsend. Air rattled into his lungs, listening dizzily as Chiaki began to ask after the motive in this case. The one thing Peko didn’t really have.

                All she had was a flimsy mask. Sparkling Justice.

 

                This had to work.

                Peko inhaled, and started her final play. If this failed, her master died. “There is only one reason I kill… for the sake of protecting justice! Justice is what makes humans human… it’s a virtue that human beings should be proud of.” Justice for her master, justice for his sister. Maybe her lie was even true. “Justice is the eternal sun and the enduring moon, the protective father and the smiling mother!”

                From Sonia’s face, the princess was catching on to the reference. Good. It was working.

                “I-it’s fine. Just stop it!”

                She didn’t. She had to succeed.

 

                He couldn’t let her do this.

                “I’m telling you to stop it!” His voice went all but unheard in the courtroom.

                “Th-this is, could it be…?” Sonia’s eyes widened. Fuyuhiko gritted his teeth. Around them, the entire room disrupted into yells of disbelief as Peko’s tirade continued on, until Sonia broke in “Everyone, be careful! Sparkling Justice is a serial killer who claims to be an ally of justice! Clad in her various hero masks, she is a serial killer who exclusively targets other criminals! She is supposed to be, but… huh?”

                “What?” Fuyuhiko rounded on the princess. Maybe it was his last chance to do something, before this got too far away from him. “Supposed to be what?”

                “Supposed to be… from Spain. The magazine I read was written in Spanish.”

                “So, in other words,” Fuyuhiko spat, rounding on Peko, “you can’t be Sparkling Justice. There’s no way for it to be possible. Or can you say the catchphrase in Spanish? Come on. Do it.”

                Her expression as she dropped the mask could have broken his heart. The raw shock in it hurt to look at. So he just looked away, glancing at the rest of the courtroom. They all looked just as shell-shocked by it. “Fuyuhiko, why would…”

                “I told you it was fine, didn’t I?” His anger washed over her words, drowning them out. “Fuck it. Fuck it all! You all want to know who the killer is? Fine! Listen, up, assholes, because it was _me_. I killed Mahiru!”

                The resulting clamor was almost satisfying.

 

                Everything went wrong.

                She was frozen, no words coming from her lips, only able to watch. Fuyuhiko was grinning now, the kind of reckless expression that she was so used to seeing from him. The expression that always meant that her job would become more difficult because of the resulting scheme.

                “What, none of you got anything to say? I’ve got the motive. I’ve got the weapon. I killed that bitch to avenge my little sister. Go on and vote! The jig’s up.”

                “But…” Hajime sounded stunned, trying to put together the pieces. “How did you wash off the blood? Or escape the beach house? It doesn’t make sense.”

                “’Course it does.” His voice was razor-sharp: now that he wasn’t in a scrambling defense, Fuyuhiko was more than capable of handling himself in this fight. “You had it right before. Peko was there with me the whole time. She moved the body, used her sword… all that junk.”

                “But why would she do that?” That was from Chiaki, in total confusion. “If she’s not Sparkling Justice, why would she help you kill someone?”

                Peko held her breath. Maybe there was still hope.

 

                He just smiled. He could do this.

                Loosening his tie, he looked at his classmates. Not Peko. He didn’t want to see the raw hurt on her face again. “We’re childhood friends.” That wasn’t really true, but they’d believe it. “She knew my sister, too. So after she played the game, she agreed to help me. We set Mahiru and Hiyoko up. You were supposed to blame it on that little bitch over there. I don’t care if Hiyoko takes the fall for me.

                “But I’m not gonna stand here and let you blame Peko. Over my dead body, assholes.”

                “Fuyuhiko—” That was Peko, finally finding her voice again. He cut her off before she could finish any kind of thought, and ruin the whole thing.

                “Shut up, Peko. I’m the killer. It’s _me_.”

                “Actually, it makes sense.” Nagito’s voice was the one that came into the argument. “There is some proof that supports that. Monokuma said it earlier. The body discovery announcement is made when at least three people discover a body. And in this case, the killer wasn’t included. That would mean only Kazuichi and Hiyoko discovered the body… unless we count Peko.”

                “Congratulations, asshole. You figured it out. I’m the killer, and Peko was my accomplice. And I’m not about to fuckin’ let her take the fall for me!” Fuyuhiko spat the words into the courtroom. “Come on, do it! Vote, already!”

                They brought it to the vote. He was declared the blackened.

                He won.

 

                “Young master!”

                The shout rang through the courtroom. Fuyuhiko turned, and smiled at her. The expression was tired. “Too late, Peko. I’ve been declared the killer.”

                “But you’re going to _die_!” Her voice was an anguished one, staring him down. “Don’t do this, don’t sacrifice yourself for a mere tool.” She wouldn’t have minded dying for him. But him dying for her was unthinkable. “Young master…”

                He smiled. Just at her. It might have been the softest he’d ever seen his expression. “Yeah. But you get to _live_ , Peko. Guaranteed. Because these assholes got it wrong.” He turned around, and she saw that smile harden into a grimace. “I’m not the killer. Peko is.”

                “What?” Her voice was mirrored with Hajime’s.

                The entire room broke into chaos again.

 

                He watched them chatter with a certain satisfaction.

                “Fuyuhiko? What’s going on?” That was Chiaki, her voice as timid and sleepy as ever.

                “I’m not the killer. Peko is. Aren’t you listening?” He cracked his knuckles, shrugging. “She was the one who actually killed Mahiru. I was just trying to distract you all, to save her.” And then he rounded back on Peko. “Isn’t that right?”

                All she had to do was agree, and she lived.

 

                “No.”

                Peko’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. “No, it would be more accurate to say that you’ve voted correctly. My young master _is_ Mahiru’s killer. It was by my hand that she died, but… I am just his tool, in the end.”

                “What’s that supposed to mean?” It was Nekomaru who asked, his voice almost a shout in the room.

                “It means, she’s a hitman arranged by my clan to work directly under me.” Fuyuhiko’s explanation was practically a dismissal, spat out of the corner of his mouth as an allowance to everyone else.

                “No. It means I am a tool.” Her voice was gentle as she corrected him. “Before I am human, I am my young master’s tool, first and foremost. If he wishes to kill, I am his sword. If he is attacked, I must be his shield. This is my reason for existing. As a tool.”

                He gritted his teeth. She closed her eyes.

                “But it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

 

                “Actually, I think it does.” Hajime was the one to interrupt this time. “I don’t really understand this tool business, but… if it’s true, it means that Fuyuhiko is the killer, and we voted correctly. But if it’s not, then we voted wrong and…

                “…all of us would die, except you, Peko.”

 

                Fuyuhiko laughed. The sound was ugly, echoing in the silence.

                “Like I said, I don’t care about taking down you bastards. I just want Peko to live.” He swallowed, and then continued speaking. “I’m sorry, Peko. I couldn’t go through with it. I didn’t want to survive, having to rely on someone else like that.”

                “Young master…” Her voice was so soft. Maybe because she realized it was impossible to save him. A real catch-22. If he was the killer, he had to be killed. If he wasn’t the killer, then they had voted incorrectly and he still would die. It was only a bunch of insignificant lives hanging in the balance.

                “And as for these bastards…” He shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to say that you were a tool for me so that they can live. How many times have I said it before? I don’t want a tool given to me by the Kuzuryuu Clan.”

                He could practically hear everyone else’s hopes dying.

 

                Behind him, Nagito laughed.

                “So, this is the hope to end all hopes! Fuyuhiko’s hope, to sacrifice us all and save the life of his tool. It’s just as tragically beautiful as I dreamed that it would be!”

 

                He rounded on Nagito in a blaze of fury.

                “Did you listen to a word I just fuckin’ said? Peko’s not a tool!” Peko smiled, as she watched him yell. There was a wave of unreal calm washing over her now, wiping away the desperation. Maybe the fact that he would die hadn’t really hit her yet.

                As long as he kept insisting that she was not a tool, all of them but her would die. The truth stuck in her throat like a rock. “Please forgive me.” Her voice was soft as she spoke the words, shaking her head. “I did not mean for things to turn out this way.”

                Fuyuhiko rounded on her, his golden eyes wide. “Don’t fuckin’ apologize, Peko. This isn’t your fault. It’s mine.” His expression relaxed into a smile. “I’m just a selfish bastard, I guess. I couldn’t stand aside and watch you die. Even after you went through all this…”

                Peko closed her eyes, shook her head. “No, young master. I suppose I should have seen this coming. You have… a very kind heart.” She didn’t know how to say it, around all of these people. “I should have accepted that you wouldn’t allow another to sacrifice themselves for you.” She laughed, the sound unusually light. “We’ve been together since we were children. Even a tool can understand that.”

                “Jesus, Peko.” His voice sounded heartbroken to her ears. “That’s not it at all.”

 

                He shook his head. Her eyes widened.

                “I didn’t need a tool. I didn’t want to be saved.” The words came out in a rush, staring at the ground rather than at her. “I don’t have a kind heart at all. I’m just… I’m a selfish bastard. I just wanted you, Peko. Not a tool. Just for you to be happy.”

                She blinked, shaking her head.

                “Young master—”

 

“Alright, enough of that! It’s time for the executions!”

 

                Hours later, after all of the executions, she alone stood for graduation. Before her there were two buttons: to graduate, or to repeat.

                Looking up at Monokuma, she narrowed her eyes. “What does this one do?”

                “Well, to be honest with you…” He sighed, the sound a mechanical chirp. “That one allows you to reset the entire island. From the beginning of the school year, you know! The killing game starts again… but on the other hand, all of your friends will come back, just the same way that they were before!”

                “All of them?” Her voice was a soft breath.

                “Yep! That’s the deal! Which will it be?”

                Peko bit down on her lip. “I won’t remember what happened here, will I?” She didn’t wait for an answer. It didn’t really matter. If she could see Fuyuhiko again, all of the other details were totally irrelevant.

                She pressed repeat.


End file.
